


For One Night Only

by The_Wavesinger



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/pseuds/The_Wavesinger
Summary: Leia grieves, and Amilyn comforts her.





	For One Night Only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).

“I loved him,” Leia would never say. “I loved him and he’s gone.” But Amilyn reads it in the lines of her face, in the way she gulps down her Corellian whiskey.

“I was stupid,” Leia does say. “I know Ben. I should never have let Han go; I should’ve gone instead.” She stares morosely down at the amber liquid in her cup. Amilyn counts it a victory that she says even this, lets this much of her grief show.

“Nothing would have changed.” Amilyn doesn’t actually know that. Even from the outside, she has always seen how Ben had so much faith in the Skywalker legacy, in the mantle he was made to bear. Han has no claim of the burden of lineage. But now isn’t the time to point that out to Leia.

“I suppose.” The lines of Leia’s face deepen. Her hair looks greyer than she is, in the dimmed lights of Amilyn’s apartments (she doesn’t bring Leia to her own rooms; she doesn’t need to be surrounded by Han right now). She’s not the girl she was when Amilyn met her in Alderaan so long ago. Neither of them are. “I just—” She closes her eyes. Sighs. “I miss him.”

_You will always miss_ _him_, Amilyn doesn’t say. Pirya’s loss is an old wound that still aches, the twinge still strong even as other memories of her fade. Another thing that’s not useful to tell Leia. “I know. I’m sorry,” she says instead.

Leia turns so she’s looking at Amily. Her face is close enough to Amilyn’s that Amilyn can almost taste her breath. “Amilyn.”

Then she doesn’t say anything else. Her eyelids flutter and her hand trembles as she holds her glass, but she’s completely silent, almost frighteningly so.

“Leia?”

Leia leans forward and kisses her.

This isn’t unexpected. This is what they do. This is what they are to each other. Still, Amilyn has to ask her, hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

In answer, Leia kisses her again.

Leia isn’t gentle. She’s not rough, exactly, but she’s not gentle either. She’s demanding and seeking, pulling at Amilyn’s lip and biting down and letting their teeth clash, enamel on enamel. There’s no semblance of politeness, just taking and taking, pushing Amilyn down flat on the couch. She pauses only to take deep gulping breaths of air, her kisses otherwise strong and breathless and pressing.

Leia’s dress is complicated to remove. She doesn’t wear mourning clothes. She never wore mourning clothes, and, she said a hint acerbically to an aide who made the mistake of commenting, she wasn’t going to start now. Amilyn has to help her with the zips and fastenings and buttons. (Her own shift stays on. This isn’t about her, and she’s not going to ask of Leia what she’s not in a state to give. Besides, she owes Leia. This is just returning the favor.)

When at last the expanse of cloth is off, Amilyn looks at Leia.

She’s breathtaking. Older now, and the curves of her body show her age and experience, and it’s so different from the body Amilyn knew and loved as a girl, but the way she moves, the curve of her tits and her brown nipple, the thatch of hair that trails down to her pussy, they’re all the beauty of the woman Amilyn knows and admires.

Leia’s body, however, Amilyn doesn’t get to admire for long. Leia is on her again, pulling at her, settling her at her feet, a cushion for her knees, because even in the depths of her grief Leia has an eye for the small important details.

There’s no nonsense. The only order of business is to bring Leia off. Amilyn dives into Leia’s crotch and gets to work.

She licks stripes across Leia’s pussy, rolls circles around and over Leia’s clit, places butterfly kisses around her lower lips. Leia tastes salty, her wetness thick on Amilyn’s tongue, and Amilyn redoubles her efforts.

Leia comes shuddering and wordless, and as soon as she’s able to she wraps a blanket around herself.

She downs the remaining whiskey in one gulp, and then she’s burying her head in Amilyn’s chest, her body shaking. Amilyn holds her and feels the material of her shift grow wet with tears.

Tonight, Leia will sleep in Amilyn’s bed, and Amilyn will hold her safe in her embrace. Tomorrow, Leia will get back to work.


End file.
